


Acceptable Risk

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Accidents, Backstory, Banter, Begging, Blood, Broken Bones, Brotherly Angst, Car Accidents, Cars, Coma, Day At The Beach, Fear, Grocery Shopping, Guilt, Head Injury, Hospitalization, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Major Character Injury, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Puns & Word Play, Self-Sacrifice, Survivor Guilt, Teasing, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: "Can Surface cars fly?" little Papyrus had asked once. Sans had concocted stories that left him in awe, fantasizing about how car doors transformed into wings.It was almost horrifically beautiful, how far the impact sent him and Papyrus now. They soared, wind behind them, frozen in an instant.
Relationships: Alphys & Sans (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr & Sans, Frisk & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus & Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 85





	Acceptable Risk

Ever since he was a baby bones, Papyrus had always had a fascination with cars. Whenever Sans fished a torn, crumpled human car magazine out of the dump, they would curl up on the couch together and Papyrus would “ooh” and “ahh” over the many shapes and styles. He would pepper Sans with so many questions about them—how they ran, how fast, how far, not even caring that most of Sans’ answers were made up.

Sans would never forget the day he had lugged that racecar bed up the stairs piece by piece, his giddy brother already clambering in when it was only half-assembled. If Papyrus were a lazier monster, he probably would have stayed in it all day just to enjoy the daydream of driving it. When it was eventually finished, he put on a “car show”, inviting all of their neighbors over to admire it.

(Nobody came, but Sans spent the afternoon helping him polish every inch of the worn plastic, just in case someone showed up tomorrow.)

Papyrus had brought the bedframe with them up to the Surface, but in truth it didn’t hold a candle to the real deal. From the moment he guided that real, shining prize into the garage, it was his baby. He didn’t need to invite people over to see it (though he still did, out of the kindness of his soul.) He could go out on the town anytime he liked.

“Did you see, Sans, how that human was ogling my glorious transport? My car is _popular_ —and by extension, _I am!_ ”

“Yeah, bro. You’re pretty _revv_ -olutionary.”

Papyrus had subscribed to as many car magazines as he could get his hands on; they piled up on the front porch like extra doormats. Sans had perused them as well from time to time, intrigued by the machinery.

Now…Now they all looked the same: blurs of shapes and colors, fancy titles and unintelligible descriptors that didn’t matter.

* * *

They had taken the car out for a daytrip, meeting up with Undyne, Alphys, Toriel and the kid. Perfect, clear skies hung overhead, vibrant blue melting into the ocean’s sparkling reflection. Undyne was a natural surfer and Papyrus…tried really hard. Alphys collected buckets’ worth of shells and Toriel’s white fur turned sandy brown as the kid built a castle around her. Sans napped in their pile of towels.

 _It’s a beautiful day outside_.

Late afternoon, they had packed up and gone back into town, briefly separating. Pap, Tori and the kid stopped in a little shop, looking for groceries to make up dinner tonight.

“Meet me back at the car, Sans,” Papyrus instructed, waving a dismissive hand goodbye. “I won’t be long!”

It wouldn’t be long.

Though he was worn out by the day, Sans didn’t mind making small talk with Undyne and Alphys as they walked—more so with Alphys, as Undyne kept getting ahead of them without considering their shorter strides. Every so often she would notice and groan, bounding back toward them with a threat that she would carry them if she had to. She didn’t make good on it, considering the bags of beach supplies already in her arms.

“At this rate the others are gonna beat us there!” she complained after a while, going unheard.

Alphys was easy to talk to; Sans could listen, making an occasional hum or grunt of acknowledgement, and her natural instinct to fill the silence could carry the conversation for him before it got awkward.

“…So then Mew Mew realized that she didn’t have to be the d-damsel in distress anymore. With the power of her friends beside her, g-giving her courage, she could be the champion who stands up f-for the other kittens in the school who were being bullied!”

As usual, Sans couldn’t help but give in to impulse, nudging her with one shoulder as he quipped, “I’ll bet with that wand of hers, she makes a _fur-midible_ hero!”

Alphys faltered, sputtered in disbelief, and then couldn’t help but break out in a grin. She must have been hanging around with Undyne a little too often; back in the Underground, she never would have had the courage to nudge back. Now she did, pushing him playfully off the sidewalk with a giggled, “Stop that!” He didn’t fight it, smirking as he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled alongside the curb.

He spotted Papyrus and the others across the street just a few minutes later. True to Undyne’s prediction, they had caught up quickly. As he cut across to join them, he was already setting it up in his head, getting ready to tell Papyrus that he was outnumbered now that even Alphys laughed at his puns. Pap couldn’t argue with popular opinion!

The chance didn’t come. A burst of light blinded him as it careened in from his right, screeching tires almost drowning out Papyrus’ scream of “ _Brother!_ ” Sans barely had enough time to turn and see. The car was there, it was right on top of him—and so was Papyrus, slamming between him and the hood. Groceries hurtled across the asphalt.

“Can Surface cars fly?” little Pap had asked once. Sans had concocted stories that left him in awe, fantasizing about how car doors transformed into wings.

It was almost horrifically beautiful, how far the impact sent him and Papyrus now. They soared, wind behind them, frozen in an instant. Then the crash landing made Sans, frankly, regret being born. His jacket padded most of his body, but his skull bounced and then scraped against the pavement as he rolled, legs crunching sideways on the curb. With a punch of agony, his eyelights blacked out.

When the world spun back into existence around him, excruciatingly loud and bright, he couldn’t even cry out. His ribs constricted hard around his soul in a ragged gasp. Gradually the kid’s face swam overhead, white with terror as they clung to him. He couldn’t quite grasp what they were saying through the shrill ringing, but he recognized the sensation when he was checked.

 **HP** : 0.8 / 1.

The crushing pain in his skull urged him back toward oblivion, black fingers dragging at him, but a desperate shout was enough to pierce the encroaching fog. “Papyrus!”

 _Papyrus_.

Panic sent a white-hot jolt through him as he flailed violently, helplessly. The kid knew instantly what he needed, grabbing his nearest arm and digging in to help him get up. As soon as he was half-upright, one of his legs splintered underneath him and he couldn’t help but scream, crumpling sideways in the gutter. 0.7 / 1.

The kid pressed their hands to their mouth, bursting into tears at the sight, but it didn’t matter because now that he had shifted, he could see. Through the blurry, disorienting haze, he made out the swarm of onlookers several feet away.

Alphys was calling someone for help, her pleas unintelligible through hysterical sobs. Toriel was fruitlessly trying to usher the crowd back with one hand, the other already aglow with healing spells. Undyne was on her knees, howling, torn between shielding and shaking the prone form in her arms.

“Papyrus! Papyrus, can you hear me?! Wake up, please! T-That’s an order!”

 _No_.

 _No_.

Dust was leaking from broken bones onto the asphalt.

Scattering under the humans’ stamping, shuffling feet.

Sans was in no shape to crawl, much less tear a hole in reality, but it didn’t matter. Everything went blank for what felt like an eternity and then he was there, collapsing into Papyrus’ chest, quaking in the effort not to bring up ectoplasmic bile with his slurred prayers.

“Pap, _no_. Not now, not like this—Can’t, s’posed to stay this time, s’posed to keep this one.”

“Sans, what are you doing?! Get off of him! He’s wounded, he needs room!”

With a low, strangled moan, he mashed his cracked face into the folds of Papyrus’ scarf, defying. He couldn’t feel a soul beat through it. “S’not happening this time, not gonna let’cha go.” Scuffed fingers dug hard into the curve of his brother’s skull. “Stop it, _stop it_ now, stop doin’ this to me, I thought we were _done_ —” The grip trying to pry him off felt cold, miles away, but the pain brought on by every tug and twist was immediate. He gagged, choked it down. “M’right here, Papy. You stay, you stay with me!”

“Sans, my friend, you must step aside for the healers!”

“Never got to hold you through it last times, ’least gimme a goodbye, y-you _stupid_ —” His incoherent stream of supplication ran dry when Papyrus spasmed feebly, jaw splitting in a croaked struggle for breath. Wet heat spilled down Sans' face—tears or blood, he didn’t know, but dust smeared and stuck to his damp cheekbones as he was dragged out of the way. “Not again! _Stars_ , _please_ , not like this!”

* * *

There were car magazines stacked on Papyrus’ bedside table. The doc had suggested reading to him, letting him hear Sans’ voice. Maybe something familiar would “coax his consciousness out,” or whatever.

Sans didn’t bother trying. He didn’t stir, fractured skull resting against the hospital bed rail, fingers laced through his brother’s.

Papyrus was always dust by the time Sans reached him in Snowdin. If he was going to be taken again, if this coma whittled him away piece by piece, Sans would be damned if he didn’t hold him through it.

As he waited for the inevitable, the world still turned around him through the hospital room. Flowers and balloons and cards appeared, along with plates of spaghetti. Amateurs, thinking they could get it right.

Undyne railed, raved and ranted, even after the reckless human driver was prosecuted. Eventually she gave up on words and punched a hole in the wall. Toriel, always the peacekeeper, covered the damage with a framed photograph of friends and family.

Alphys came just once to beg for forgiveness, because she’d twisted the whole thing up to blame herself somehow. Something to do with being the one who’d pushed Sans into the street. It didn’t really matter. Sans didn’t acknowledge her and she didn’t come back.

Asgore appeared. He said something about knowing loss, about how it felt like the world was ending when his children were taken from him. He offered to be a listening ear if Sans ever had need of it.

There was only one thing Sans needed. Not that.

Asgore didn’t need to bother. Alphys didn’t need to be blamed. It wasn’t even Papyrus’ fault this time, with his unending faith and trust and naiveté.

Sans had stepped out. Sans—with full knowledge of his 1 / 1 HP, with full knowledge of a brother who would do anything for him, with full knowledge that this world was always, always, _always_ stacked against him, coded to make him suffer—had stepped out anyway. The wise, discerning, forethoughtful judge had gambled and deemed jaywalking to be an acceptable risk. It may as well have been a suicide attempt.

Flowey, Chara, Gaster. They hadn’t even needed to lift a finger this time. Sans had shattered their happy ending all on his own. He should never have trusted himself to be a part of it.

The kid visited every day for…weeks, months. Without fail they asked how Papyrus was doing, if his vitals had changed, if he looked any better, and Sans would say nothing as he squeezed Papyrus’ hand, thumb tracing his knuckles. They would hesitate, voice catching as tears filled their eyes. “Sans…”

“Kid.” Did anything need to be said aloud? They knew everything encompassed in that word and in the hollow pits of his eyes when he looked at them: the exhaustion, the defeat, the anger. The question.

It was always one they weren't ready to answer. Without another sound, they would back down and bolt from the room, unwilling to face it.

Yet not today. The clock ticked solemnly past their usual time.

Then it ticked past his brother's time.

Sans sensed the end just as it began. He wondered if Frisk could too, wherever they were right now. But Papyrus’ monitor alarms started going off, shrieking for a miracle, and Sans’ thumb was scraping deeper into his hand as it started to dissolve. His eye sockets flickered as he gazed numbly up at Pap’s crumbling face. 

“One more, brother,” he mumbled, already half-dreaming of car lights veering toward them. “One more, just for you.”

He didn’t open his eyes again until the chill of Snowdin woke him.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 12/20: Now complemented by absolutely _gorgeous_ art that sets the scene right before the heartbreak, [here](https://i.postimg.cc/z8FpfJHt/ar.png). Thank you, Laura, for dedicating time and effort to such a great piece! I don't think I deserve it XD


End file.
